Ties that Bind

Chapter 7

And that was all she did for two weeks. Eat. And sleep. Just like a small child or an invalid. But wasn't that last one correct? Wasn't she an invalid? Hadn't she been ill for a very, very long time? Sick in heart, soul and body?

It had taken Darion to come get her. Darion, who had been dead for years. Darion, whom she had considered to be gone, lost, slipped from her fingertips. But was he truly lost? The very question was heresy. He was dead. He was an abomination. This was a trap.

If only it could feel that way. If only she could feel threatened. But for the first time in a long time, she felt safe. Loved.

I don't know if I can do this. Even though she knew that being lost and empty had been wrong, this was disturbing on an entirely different level. This meant letting an obsession, the only driving force of her life, slip. It would mean letting Darion simply be Darion, not a death knight...not undead. If he is so lost, why would he do this? If he was so damned, why would he have bothered to send someone to come get her? It made no sense. Nothing made any sense. She was being held in a small room and she felt more free than she had in years. The voice in her soul was silent, its hate and rage extinguished. She felt normal, able to finally face and work through so much loss. So much pain.

I never meant to do wrong.

But she had. So, so much wrong. But Darion had brought her here, and now she was surrounded by those who had done wrong. So, so much wrong. And they understood it. Like her, they'd had a voice in their soul which had driven them to it. And like her, they now faced the rest of their existence knowing that they'd done wrong. But they kept going.

She hugged herself, even though she was not cold. Every day she woke there were more clothes, beautiful clothes, warm clothes. Combs, clasps and ribbons for her hair. Good food. She couldn't complain about her care...but there was one issue that was beginning to wear on her. For the first three days, Darion had been there. But now she hadn't seen him in days, her care fell solidly on the death knight who had captured her from New Hearthglen.

"Where is Darion?" It was the first question she had asked of him since she'd arrived. She answered his questions when he asked them...was she well? Did she need anything? Want anything? But she had never started a conversation with him.

Thassarian paused, tilting his head as he considered her question, and his answer to it. "Highlord Mograine is on the ground in Northrend, milady. Fronting our forces there."

Darion was on the ground, on a front...while she ate her fill, wrapped in flannels and wool? "What forces there?" She had no clue what the death knights of Darion's Ebon Blade were actually up to. She'd heard rumors, vague whispers, but nothing had seemed real. Of course, very little from New Hearthglen seemed real...now it was all just a fuzzy, surreal jumble in her head.

"We push against the Lich King." He leaned against the wall, but his bright blue gaze never left her. She could feel it, boring into the back of her head as he weighed her questions.

"You belonged to the Lich King."

He snorted, shifting. "And you, General Abbendis, belonged to a demon. Would you not rise against that one if you were given the chance to? Redemption? Retribution for using you in a way you were never meant to be used? Justice for those you've lost to it? You were just as enslaved to it as we have ever been to the Lich King. No difference."

No difference. No difference between her and these? Between her and Darion? That very idea should stir outrage, indignation, but all it brought was a weird clarity. They'd all committed great sins...Thassarian, Darion, they grasped what had happened to her in ways that very few could. Even Tirion Fordring would never have their understanding of it. He might forgive. But he'd never truly get it.

"Thank you. For everything."

He shifted again, uncomfortable for a moment before he moved up behind her, cautious as he rested a bare hand on her shoulder. "It is my pleasure." He said, squeezing slightly. "I do...understand. You are not alone in this."

I am not alone in this.